When Chimeras Dance
by extasssy
Summary: A Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Severus Snape love triangle. Story is undergoing massive structure changes and beta-ing so just bear with me for a little more. I'll promise to be as quick about it as I can.
1. Chapter 1  Aftermath

_IMPORTANT: The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._

_Many thanks to my beta **blue artemis**, for all the help she's giving me writing this story!_

**Chapter 1 - Aftermath**

It was well past midnight when Kingsley Shacklebolt finished reading and signing the rather large stack of official looking papers perched on top of his desk. He had read them all, from the first boring sentence to the last, and yet, after more than seven hours of reading and signing, he didn't have the slightest idea what any of them were about. His mind was far from the task at hand, which - according to Cornelius Fudge, one of his predecessors - was more than often a daily occurrence for the Minister of Magic.

No, his mind was definitely not on who to appoint as the new Head of Magical Games and Sports Department or the lack of staff over at the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. Not even the crowding down on level two where during the last hours tens of Death Eaters have been imprisoned to await trial or the retirement of Nelson Proudfoot as Head of the Auror Office, were able to drive Kingsley Shacklebolt's thoughts away from what he had seen less than twenty four hours ago in Dumbledore's pensive.

If believing without seeing is faith, than he for sure wasn't a faithful man, because without seeing he would have never believed it, but there it was, clear as day: Severus Snape - Dumbledore's man, Harry Potter's protector, the man of Light behind the ranks of Dark and the most unbelievable of all Severus Snape - the man who did it all for love. Come to think about it, the Severus Snape in the pensieve was nothing like the man that he thought he knew. This man was decent and heroic and trustworthy, but above all this man deserved a life after having none for far too long.

O*O*O*O

Kingsley Shacklebolt got up from his desk, stretched, and picked up the evening edition of the Daily Prophet on his way to the fireplace. He didn't have a chance to read it all evening and sleep was avoiding him again as it had every night since Voldemort's downfall, making this late hour of the night the perfect moment to keep tabs on the world outside the Ministry and his office. He seated himself on the sofa, facing the hearth and stared blankly at the headlines spread across the first page.

_**INSIDE THE BATTLE OF HOGWARTS**_

_The horrors may have ended for the wizarding world, but will always live in the memories of those that were present on the 2nd of May at Hogwarts._

_A day both of fairy-tale dream and nightmare proportions, writes Andy Smudgley, the 2nd of May 1998, will be forever remembered as the day that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had died at the hand of our own Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter. After years of tormenting the wizarding world He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, aka Voldemort, aka Tom Marvolo Riddle, has taken his last breath on the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry after a battle like no other in written history._

_'I was the first reporter at the scene, arriving mere minutes after Harry Potter killed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named once and for all,' explains Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent of the Battle of Hogwarts, 'and what I saw was truly horrific and uplifting at the same time. Though I am relieved that Voldemort is gone for good this time, I find myself wondering if the nightmares will ever truly go away. All I can tell you about the battle itself is that I consider myself lucky to not have been a part of it, as I cannot even start to imagine what those who were had gone through.'_

_'It was horrible!' stated Elphias Doge – long-time friend of former Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - 'The Death Eaters were everywhere and there were times when I truly believed that the end was near. Don't get me wrong, I never - not even for a second - doubted Mr. Potter, but there were times I doubted I would see him win.'_

_'The battle d'you mean?' said Mundungus Fletcher when asked about the events of 2nd May 'Not been there myself, but heard a lot on it. Glad Harry won though.'_

_'When Voldemort came out of the forest with Harry, I thought everything was over.' explained Hestia Jones, 'I couldn't … I can't really explain what I felt. It was like everything went black.'… More statements right from the battle field continued on page 3._

Kingsley Shacklebolt sifted uncomfortable on the sofa and continued with the next piece of news.

_**MALFOY SWEARS INNOCENCE**_

_Pure-blood Lucius Malfoy who was brought in early this morning for questioning regarding Death Eater activity, together with his wife Narcissa and son Draco has offered the Auror Department almost the same story as last time, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent to the Ministry of Magic. Malfoy stated that he was subjected to several confounding hexes and charms during the time since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named returned after the incident at Godric's Hollow that resulted in James and Lily Potter's deaths, until being captured and imprisoned after the attack on the Ministry of Magic a few years back. He also mentioned being placed under the Imperious Curse on several occasions._

_Malfoy admitted to Azkaban breakout, but explained that it was only under Death Eater pressure. 'I knew that the Death Eaters would have killed me and my family in an instant if I didn't do as told…._

_Continued on page 16._

Kingsley Shacklebolt shifted uncomfortably in his seat again but continued reading.

_**GOLDEN TRIO MISSING**_

_It has been exactly one week since anyone has seen any of the saviors of our world, or the Golden Trio as many like to call them, writes Eva Limus, disappearing out of sight right after the collective funerals that took place on the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley are nowhere to be found and their close friends and relatives refuse to make any comments on the subject. Rumor has it the trio has left the country. Is it for a journey to recover after the ordeal of the last year or for good? No one knows and those who know are not telling._

_Continued on page 2._

Kingsley Shacklebolt flipped the paper open at page two and continued reading the article. With every line he read his face grew brighter and brighter, so near the end of the article he was smirking at its stupidity.

"Idiots!" He laughed in the empty room. "Granger, you're truly one of a kind. Who'd have thought?"

He let the paper fall on his lap and stared into the fire laughing out loud. It was minutes after that the laughing subsided and he raised the paper again reading. A familiar sneer caught his eye on the next page. With a hooked nose and a curtain of greasy black hair, Severus Snape's face smirked towards him from the picture surrounded by test just below a headline that Kingsley Shacklebolt missed on the front page.

_**THE EPITOMY OF EVIL - SEVERUS SNAPE**_

_If last year's accusations regarding the murder of Hogwarts' most esteemed Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and his presumed killer are anything to go on, then Severus Snape is truly the worst of the worst, writes Rudolf Almeidus._

_Students and teachers alike have testified right after the battle that Severus Snape, then Headmaster of Hogwarts, had proven without a doubt his true loyalties during the battle by fleeing the castle to join his one and true master He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._

_Now struggling on his death bed at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries after being bitten by none other than Nagini, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's snake familiar, Severus Snape seemed to have made a terrible mistake in putting his fate in his master. Rumor has it the healers are clueless on how exactly to proceed in order to save his life._

_While the extent of his injuries are still very hush-hush and only a hand full of people know exactly what happened in the Shrieking Shack when the serpent Nagini attacked his master's greatest supporter - none of which are talking to the press - people have started to wonder if all the resources that go his way are even worth it. Wouldn't it be wiser to just let him join his master once and for all?_

O*O*O*O

At this point Kingsley Shacklebolt refused to read any more and as rage burned in him so did the flames of the hearth burn the crumpled newspaper that he had thrown with all his force into the fire.

"The nerve of them!" raged Shacklebolt. "Who the hell do they think they are? They know nothing! Nothing!"

_And yet you would have agreed with them mere hours ago!_ The nagging voice of his conscience answered him. But he wouldn't listen to it now. Not now that he had seen it with his own eyes. Not now when he finally understood the man that is Severus Snape.

"Fuck this!" he roared and without even a look at the paper that was consumed by flames he stepped over it after throwing a handful of Floo powder and stating loud and clear his destination. "St. Mungo's - Hippocrates Smethwyck's Office."

A burst of green flames later he was gone.

O*O*O*O

Hippocrates Smethwyck was reading the most recent healing report on the most notorious patient that the department of Creature-Induced Injuries had in more than a hundred years, his face growing more and more incredulous with every minute that passed. It was good news, extraordinary news to be exact, but the truth was that he had lost hope so long ago that this was almost a miracle, and in a world of magic, miracles were very little and sometimes centuries apart and certainly never coming from the Muggle world.

O*O*O*O

He lifted his head from the roll of parchment at the sound of Floo Network activation and waited for whoever was rude enough to be calling at this hour to step into the office. A mere second passed before the Minister of Magic himself stepped from the green flames of the fireplace and onto the colour faded rug, banishing soot from his bright emerald robes with a flick of his wand. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic, was pissed.

"Minister!" Smethwyck rose from his chair forcing a smile and opening his arms in greeting. "How nice to see you again! Always a pleasure, always."

"Yes, Hippocrates, I am very much aware of the 'pleasure' of having me here. You never miss a chance to remind me of it." Shacklebolt settled himself on a chair facing the healer. "I'm not here for chit-chat! How is our patient?"

"See for yourself, Minister." Smethwyck said, handing him the same piece of parchment that he had been reading only a minute ago.

Shacklebolt took a few seconds to pursue the length of the report, the same incredulous expression that had been on the healer's face reflected now on his own.

"You mean it worked?"

Smethwyck nodded and smirked.

"It really worked? Is he awake?" asked the Minister after reading the report for a second time. "I want to see him!" he demanded, rising from his chair.

"Oh, no Minister, not awake. Not yet anyhow." Smethwyck said. "As for seeing him, why, I was just on my way to check on him. Would you care to join me? "

"You bloody well know I do!" hissed the Minister "I've been coming here every day for a fortnight to see him; not to hear you fanning the breeze."

"Yes, of course!" Smethwyck cringed, lowering his head. He really wasn't in the mood for politics.

O*O*O*O

A few minutes later Smethwyck and Shacklebolt could be found standing near the head of a hospital cot in St. Mungo's most expensive private reserved room, looking down at the occupant of the bed. The man's complexion had a yellowish tinge with violent black marks under his closed eyelids, his thin lips were almost undistinguished in colour from the rest of his skin and his long black hair was spread in an unkempt and greasy halo on his pillow. He looked sick.

Shacklebolt stared at the man unable to believe that this was the same man that had changed the destiny of the wizarding world forever. He looked too fragile to have ever done what Kingsley now knew he did. How could this be the man who took the Dark Mark because of an unrequited love, or the same man that change sides for the same love, or the man that protected his one true love's son for seven straight years, or even the man that had killed his mentor - at his request - for the Greater Good? How can he be the man that the world feared, when here, now he was the one how should fear the world? He was not the same man, Shacklebolt reasoned, and he will never again be.

"...vitals. Let's see! Oh, yes… stronger than when the report was filled." Smethwyck words while flicking his wand in all sort of strange movements over the body, woke the Minister from his thoughts. "Venom level… low, very low. Magic… almost back to normal. He's healing nicely Minister."

"And all this because of that Muggle remedy?" asked the Minister apprehensively.

"Our healers had their share of contribution." sniped Smethwyck.

"Yes, yes, of course! I didn't mean it like that. I just… Of..." The Minister trailed off as his gaze felt on the man's face again. _Oh, Severus! Why didn't you let us help you?_

"The remedy did most of the job…" admitted Smethwyck in an undertone. "Got to hand it to these Muggles. They are more resourceful than I thought! But how, by Merlin's twisted beard, did you think of it?"

"Honestly Hippocrates, I was just the middle man - the courier if you like. The mastermind was one of his students. Or I should say former students - I don't know if he'll be going back, or if she will - I hope they both will. We need the likes of them."

"The likes of what? Death Eaters? You can't be serious Minister! "

"Oh… Sod off, Hippocrates! You heard what Potter said."

"Don't mean to be disrespectful Minister… "

"Why do I have a feeling you will be then?" interrupted Shacklebolt with a harsh laugh.

"… Er… Yes, well! As I said, no disrespect to you, but how do we know we can trust Potter? I mean the boy was under a lot of stress at the time - with all the running round the country, fighting You-Know-Who…"

"Oh, Merlin's beard, say his name, already!" shouted the Minister. "The sick bastard is dead for crying out loud! He's not coming back this time. There's nothing to fear anymore."

"Yes, well! V-Vol…Ahem…Voldemort, yes, Voldemort. Anyway… and with all the friends that were dying around him." Smethwyck tsked. "Who knows, maybe the boy has changed his mind since! I mean, the man is a killer, Dumbledore's killer to be exact. How can you not doubt the boy's words? Wasn't Potter the one who said Snape was guilty of killing the Headmaster? Didn't he say that said the Snape was a traitor?"

The Minister decided to ignore the comment and started to pace at the end of the bed as Smethwyck, taking the hint, checked on Severus Snape's vitals and magic once again.

"His improving as we speak." Smethwyck smirked. "He'll be walking around in no time."

"When do you think he'll..." the Minister never did finish his question as a silky drawling voice came from the bed.


	2. Chapter 2 Waking up

_IMPORTANT: The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._

_Many thanks to my beta **blue artemis**, for all the help she's giving me writing this story!_

**Chapter 2 – Waking up**

"'He' would like to know where the hell 'he' is!"

"Severus, you're awake!" The Minister rushed to the head of the bed, his eyes glowing with surprise and genuine happiness.

"Obviously!" growled Severus Snape, his eyes darting to Smethwyck's wand that moved from top to bottom over his body. "It's either that, or I am talking in my sleep with more coherence than you two at the best of your waking moments."

"How are you feeling, Mr. Snape?" asked Smethwyck, checking the narrow piece of parchment that appeared from the tip of his wand.

"Like I've been chewed up and spit out by a Hippogriff. How do you think I'm feeling? I feel like shite," raged Severus.

"Well, at least we know you haven't lost you sense of humour!" The Minister laughed and for the first time Severus' eyes went to him. "Good to have you back, old boy!"

"Potter… What happened? Vol…" started Severus but Shacklebolt stopped him.

"Later!"

The two men stared at each other for a minute, eyes locked - black on black - as if reading each other's minds through Legilimency, before Smethwyck's voice brought them both to attention.

"… and you magic is almost completely restored. A couple of weeks of rest and Strengthening Potion every six hours and you'll be as good as new. Now, you should get some rest, though you are definitely better, your body is in need of sleep."

"I just woke up!" growled Severus.

"Yes, from an unconscious state very different to the sleeping one. You need rest."

"Later!" he replied, his eyes again fixed on the Minister's face.

"I see you'll need a sleeping draft," huffed the healer. "I'll go get some."

And just like that Smethwyck walked towards the door without so much of a glance towards the two.

"Minister, do try and keep the anxiety to a minimum."

The two men never heard the door opening or closing, too concentrated in the task at hand - reading each other's mind.

"Fuck, Shacklebolt, lower your walls! I can't see a damn thing," hissed Severus and made to lift himself up the bed only to realize that he could not. "What the hell? "

"Invisible restraints." explained Shacklebolt gesturing to his torso. "You had a rough couple of weeks. I'll see they take them off. "

"Well? The walls, Shacklebolt, take down your walls!" Severus snarled.

"Ah… see there; Smethwyck said you must rest and Legilimency is known to be quite exhausting."

"I don't give a rat's arse to what that idiot said!"

"But I do! You'll have to limit yourself - at least for the time being - to asking questions. So, on with it!"

"Very well! What happened?" spat Severus keeping his eyes fixed on the man before him hoping against hope for a break in the internal walls that protected Shacklebolt's thoughts, memories and feelings.

"We won, Voldemort is dead - for good this time, I can assure you that - and the Death Eaters are being imprisoned as we speak. Trials are scheduled to start in a couple of days."

"Potter?"

"He was magnificent."

"So... he... he's... dead," said Severus with something that sounded as regret in his voice.

"Far from it. He's enjoying some time away from this mess at the moment."

"But..."

Severus seemed unable to find the right words to finish his thought.

"But he had to die to kill Voldemort. I am aware of that. He did. Don't know the whole story; just that apparently he's survived Voldemort's killing curse again. The boy's really a bloody miracle."

"How… I mean, who died for him this time? I bet not Weasley... Granger? The chit is the suicide-for-the-greater-good type."

"In a way they both did."

Severus made to say something but the Minister's hand up silenced him.

"No Severus, they are not dead. We were all the sacrifice needed and we have the casualties to prove it - fifty-five Order and DA members - according to Dumbledore's portrait it was our combined trust and love for him that did it."

"Students..."

Severus choked on the thought and not trusting his voice anymore he just stared at the Minister. He hoped Shacklebolt understood him enough to simply answer his unspoken question.

"It made no difference to the Death Eaters. Once they started firing hexes and curses, they just aimed at all that moved. Adults, children, young or old, entire families if they could – Tonks and Remus for one."

A tear fell from Shacklebolt left eye and he made no effort to wipe it as he continued.

"Fred Weasley, Colin Creevey..."

"Creevey? But he's just a boy... not even... not…"

Once again his words drifted into nothingness as a sob escaped his lips. For the first time in too many years Severus Snape was showing emotion and hated himself for it. But still, children…

"Yes, I know! Many of them were barely of age."

Silence felt over the two men, each lost in grief. It wasn't until minutes later that Shacklebolt spoke again snapping Severus out of his nightmarish thoughts where masked, blacked-robed Death Eaters fought fifth and sixth years.

"I wonder if it's worth it. I mean, isn't doing _anything_ for the Greater Good a bit too much?"

Several minutes passed before Severus found his voice again. Still, he didn't answer the Minister. What could he answer? He'd lost track of how many he killed and tortured for the Greater Good. Yes, they were too many. Not even Dumbledore's Greater Good was worth that much.

"Why am I here?" Severus asked suddenly as if he just noticed where he was.

"You almost died. Where else should you be?"

"I don't know? Maybe where I belong, down on level two, in a jail cell with Malfoy and Lestrange. And now that we're on that: why am I alive?"

"Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley came back for you."

"Why? They hate me... they."

"They've seen your memories."

"I see." Severus stated coldly, closing his eyes.

Remembering what he has given Potter that night in the Shrieking Shack was far more painful than his throbbing body or the headache that seemed to have escalated to heights never before reached. _Why did I have to give the idiot so much of myself? _

_Because it was the only way to get the message across and besides you weren't supposed to live, _came Dumbledore's nagging voice from somewhere deep in his mind. _You weren't supposed to care what you gave him._

"You've seen them too, I suppose. Is that why I'm still here as opposed to locked up?"

"That and the fact that Harry threatened to curse the entire Ministry if we do anything before he returns."

"And you're now scared of an eighteen year old? The Dark Lord must be laughing his head off," said Severus, his voice dripping sarcasm with every word.

"Let's just say some of us are apprehensive. Look at all he did. Look at the last year. That shows power and greatness. We'd be fools not to at least listen to his…"

"Power - greatness? Ha!" spat Severus. "He went through everything with nothing but luck, gifted friends and a name that opened doors. If it weren't for Granger he and Weasley wouldn't have survived a week out there, never mind a year, and even before that… He's nothing, average at best, but certainly not great."

"Listen, Severus. I know that you two didn't have the best…"

"You know nothing!" raged Severus. "You've seen some memories scattered throughout almost thirty years' worth of hate and you presume to know me, to understand me. You KNOW nothing!"

Shacklebolt seemed ready to respond when Severus let out a heavy sigh and continued in a low dangerous voice.

"Potter is exactly like his father – a self-centred idiot with no real talent and stupid spunk – with one notable difference. He's also Lily Evans' son. That's what kept him alive long enough. Lily's life, all the lives that were lost in battle then and now, all the lives I and every other Death Eater have taken, were so he could live and kill the fucking bastard. He's not great, his not powerful, he just had a lot of powerful and great people dying for him."

The silence stretched for the longest period yet, before Severus spoke again.

"Why am I here and what does the Great Potter have to do with it?"

"He's working to keep you out of Azkaban." Shacklebolt scowled like that was the answer that thwarted everything Severus just said.

"Why? I killed, injured and used the Unforgivables more times than I care to remember. Why should I not be sent to Azkaban? I deserve it and I never expected anything less. Well, that's not true! I expected to die and be done with it, but look how that's turned up."

"Some may argue that's not what you deserve. I know I do."

"Yes, well not everybody had yours and Saint Potter's imbecilic notion of fairness. It's only just that I get sent to Azkaban for life or maybe even to death. Yes, I think that'll be appropriate, the punishment fitting the crime and all that," replied Snape in a detached cold voice.

"Death sentences are out of the question. Hermione'd rip my head off." Shacklebolt chuckled under his breath.

"Granger? What does it matter to her? Am I her new charity case, a new branch of S.P.E.W.?"

"She's the one that healed you!"

"She's... What?"

Severus wanted to growl and rage, but the words came out barely louder than a low hiss and full of astonishment.

"She's just a child? How…?"

"She's not anymore, Severus. None of them are, not in body, spirit or mind," Shacklebolt said in an undertone. "Anyway, everybody thought you were a lost cause, you know... "

"She just had to prove them wrong, didn't she?" Severus said in a low whisper and scowled angrily.

"... not her!" continued Shacklebolt, not hearing the other man's reply. "She spent the first week researching every book there is on snake bites magical or Muggle. I've never seen her in obsessive research mode – that's what the boys called it – but it was kind of frightening, she never slept, never ate.

We almost got her a room here too, that or a Full Body-Bind Curse and a tonne of Sleeping Draught. It was like she was dying at an even faster rate than you were. Really frightening I tell you. Then some days after, she just left, just like that. Went out the door one morning and didn't came back for days. Everybody thought she'd given up too and left to find the boys but she hadn't. That's just not in her core or something because a couple of days after she left, she returned and she wasn't alone. She had this Muggle healer with her - the best in the business apparently, some South American bloke with a funny accent.

Anyway they worked together for a couple of days and came up with something like Muggle antivenom, but specific for Nagini's venom. No one believed it was possible, but ...I don't know how she did it – and I sure as hell don't understand what she did – but she managed it. You're alive."

"Insufferable chit."

Severus grunted under his breath sure that Shacklebolt will hear it. He was supposed to grunt, it was his persona, his role, yet underneath it all he was dumbfounded. He didn't understand the _why_ and the _how_, but to do all that… he was impressed, truly impressed.

Hermione Granger was the brightest student he ever had the opportunity to teach and he always secretly admired her for her dedication, but she never impressed him. He just wasn't the type.

"Now, now Severus, you owe her your life."

"Ah, but you see, that's exactly my problem. I now have a Life Debt to the little Gryffindor Princess. What can be worse than that?"

"Don't worry Professor, I have no wish to collect a debt from you or anyone else and you are certainly not - how did you put it? - a new S.P.E.W. branch." Hermione Granger said from the door's frame where she stood watching the two men.

She had been there for a while now, but they didn't seemed to notice when she knocked, entered the room or even when she loudly cleared her throat three times in a row. So she listened patiently as Kingsley Shacklebolt told her story, but when the discussion turned to Life Debts and noticed how pained Professor Snape seemed about owing her one she just had to intervene.

"What is she doing here?" growled Professor Snape, eying her with loathing.

"'She' - I despise when people talk like I am not even in the room but I'll indulge you - is here to bring you a dose of Sleeping Draught and see how you are feeling."

Hermione closed the door and walked the other side of the bed putting a hospital standard vial on the bedside table and taking her wand out. Professor Snape's eyes darted to it and made an attempt to grab her hand, but the invisible restraints were still very much in place keeping his movement minimal.

"I won't hex you Professor. Just need to check you vitals. And if you want I can also take off the restraints."

Hermione replied coldly not even looking at the man in front of her, but keeping her eyes firm on a spot on the wall above his head. She tried to suppress a satisfied smile as her wand moved over Snape's body and its tip glowed in at least half of dozen colours before settling on blue glow.

"Yes, I think it's all right to take the restraints off. You aren't going to run off on us Professor, are you?" She chuckled.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" snapped Snape.

"Hermione Granger, former student, insufferable know-it-all extraordinaire. Don't worry, when I was here working on curing you, they gave me basic Healer training. Does that cover it?" she replied with cheek.

When the professor made to speak again she held her hand out.

"Now hold still for a moment so I can get you out of those. Then you'll take the Sleeping Draught and when you wake again you'll be more than welcome to yell at me all you want, take House points, give me a T on my work and even assign me detention - not that it matters as we are not at Hogwarts and you are not my professor anymore - but for now, just try and rest. I promise you'll have the chance to try to make me feel small, stupid and weak as you always did."

Hermione sighed tiredly as well as being a little annoyed. She expected him to be difficult and he was – nothing new there. So why did his tone bother her? He was just his normal 'loving' self.

She flicked her wand and with a nonverbal spell red cords appeared all over his body strapping him to his bed. They glowed bright white for a second before disappearing, leaving him able to move once more. Then she handed him the Sleeping Draught vial, which he accepted silently.

"Well, Severus," started Shacklebolt "I see you're in good hands for the time being. I'll leave you to rest."

Hermione busied herself taking the professor's vitals again when she heard Shacklebolt addressing her. She lifted her eyes to him, bypassing the professor's body completely.

"You should take a mouthful of Sleeping Draught too, Hermione. You look horrible!"

"Thanks Minister!" She smiled at him. "Though it seems you need it just as much. When's the last time you slept?"

"Don't mind me. I'll sleep when it's over," Shacklebolt said with a tired smile of his own.

"When will it be over?" Hermione's smile disappeared as she whispered her question low enough for nobody to hear it, yet she was sure the professor had heard her. She caught him glancing up at her as she spoke, still she chose not the acknowledge it. Biting her lower lip she eyed Shacklebolt with exhausted eyes and.

"Get some sleep, Minister!"

"Sure thing, Hermione!"

The Minister stated towards the door when Hermione lowered her eyes again and resumed muttering diagnostics spells. The results seemed to improve from minute to minute.

"Well, good night you two."

Before she could reply the door was already closing behind Shacklebolt retreating figure letting the room fall into complete silence.

Severus Snape stared at the closed door for a while before remembering the other occupant of the room and the vial of Sleeping Draught clutched in his hand. He turned to look at the witch that was fussing around him, taking diagnostic readings every couple of seconds, then shifted his eyes to the grey Draught in his hand.

"I've made it myself professor. It's one hundred percent safe. You know I can brew that stuff in my sleep with both hand tied behind my back. Though I understand not trusting hospital potions." Hermione said with a tired smile but directed at the glowing want tip, not at him.

She still wasn't looking at him and for some unknown reason it annoyed him. She took the time to turn him into her Mother Theresa project, so she might just as well look at her work.

"All potions here are of my own creation. And I certainly trust those more," drawled Severus, looking at the girl clearly for the first time in more than a year.

Shacklebolt was right. She wasn't a child anymore.

Hermione Granger, the insufferable know-it-all looked like she had aged at least a decade since before Dumbledore's death - the last time he had seen her up close. Oh, he had seen her in the Shrieking Shack - tears running down her blood stained face, hands shaking when she handed Potter the flask to gather his memories, sobs escaping her dried looking lips - but he haven't seen her like this. She was tired then too, but not like she was now. Not with her cheeks almost completely black from lack of sleep and her eyes bloodshot and weary. No, she wasn't even remotely exhausted back then, yet now it was a wonder that she was still standing.

"Transfigure yourself a chair or something," hissed Severus. "You look like you're about to collapse any minute now."

"Take your potion and don't worry about me. I'll still be here when you wake up and you can torture me then."

She sighed passing her wand one more time over his neck and almost as an after though she added: "I'm fine!" just as Severus growled: "Why you little... "

But then he never got the chance to finish his thought as Hermione Granger let out a loud sigh and collapsed over him.

"Shite! Miss Granger! Miss Granger, wake up! Wake up! Damn it, girl, I told you!" Snape bellowed, trying in vain to lift the girl by her forearms. He couldn't do it, he was too weak.

"Fuck!"

He tried again and even though he'd seen books that weighed more than she did, it was no use. He just couldn't lift her. Still he managed to get a hold of the girl's wand and with one swift move and a howled "Expecto Patronum" that took almost all of his energy to produce, a silvery mist the shape of a doe emerged from the glowing tip of the wand.

Replaying again and again the message in his head Severus whispered "Tribuo Nuntius" the incantation for the messenger patronus. A stream of bright white light shot from the wand hitting the doe square in the chest. The instant the light touched the doe, it disappeared through the door as if it was nothing more than an immaterial illusion. Only then did he left his aching head fall on the pillow, not letting go of either the girl or her wand.

Severus Snape stared at the girl – no, the woman – draped over him, observing just how much younger she seemed in sleep.

_That's better!_ He agreed remembering her from her school years.

She didn't look like that child anymore, but at least she looked close to her true age now. Not like before when she seemed to be a nineteen year old that looked and most certainly felt at least ten years older. So this is how Hermione Granger, the bane of his existence and the brightest witch he had ever taught, matured.

_Not bad, Granger!_ he thought staring at her. _Wait, what? Where did that came from?_

Severus never got to examine his last raving thought – never, not in a million years or under any kind of torture, would he admit to others or to himself that he found her attractive – because before he knew it he was drifting away to join her in unconsciousness.


End file.
